Tax accountant Elliot Sherman is a Baxter. You know, a Baxter? That guy in every romantic comedy since the beginning of time? The perfectly nice schmuck who, other than being a bit of a boring boob, is remarkably okay in most respects but still gets left at the alter time and time again for a different far more dynamic guy? You know what I’m talking about. Right?

That’s okay, I didn’t know what one was, either, so don’t feel too bad. Granted, I do know the type of guy they’re talking about. Think Bill Pullman in “Sleepless in Seattle” of Ralph Bellamy in “The Awful Truth,” decent guys who never seem to be able to find love, at least, not in the movies. Elliot’s mom called these kinds of guys “Baxters,” and the nebbish accountant might just be their king. He’s about to lose the love of his life to a real creep, but the creep is so much more interesting than the nebbish number cruncher Elliot’s already come to grips with the fact that this going to happen. Too bad he can’t see the real love of his life, a cute but shy temp who adores the dorky working stiff to death. But even she will only be around so long, and if Elliot can bring himself to see beyond the end of his own nose it’s only a matter of time before he looses here, too.

I have to admit, this is a good idea for a movie. Just the concept alone is enough to peak my interest and make me chuckle. In fact, with a cast featuring “The Station Agent” standouts Peter Dinklage (a wedding planner) and Michelle Williams (the temp), Elizabeth Banks (the girlfriend) of “Heights,” and with the feature being written and directed by “Wet Hot American Summer” co-creator Michael Showalter (the Baxter), “The Baxter” has warm-hearted comedic surprise written all over it.

Time to get out the eraser, because the only thing “The Baxter” has written on it is a big, fat awful, and it’s written in block letters with bright red ink. In fact, during the absolutely stunningly insipid first thirty minutes I nearly got up and left, and anyone that knows me even a little bit knows I never get up and leave early. I don’t care how bad it is, how repugnant, it’s just not something I do. But than Williams shows up and started making the movie palatable, her shimmering beauty and lively angelic presence enough to get me to keep my seat. She, as well as an inspired surrealistic comedic laugh-out-loud cameo from Dinklage, almost makes the whole thing, not just watchable, but worthwhile.

In fact, if not for all that bad writing, awful acting and nonexistent direction (you know, the small stuff) I’d almost admit to liking it, but, as you’ve probably guessed, that’s not about to happen. Banks is shrill, Justin Theroux (playing the perfect Cary Grant-like guy who will make Elliot’s life hell) is pathetically one-note, Paul Rudd and Michael Ian Black have nothing to do but tread water, while Showalter is so over-the-top and annoying there were points I wanted to put a bullet to my head and pull the trigger. Why everyone raves so much about the guy or his Comedy Central series “Stella” I just don’t know. Based on what I saw here, the guy has about as much chance of gaining a career as a leading man as I do becoming the first liberal, anti-war, pro-troop, softball playing, basketball loving, environmentally conscious, gay-rights supporting woman to lead Pat Robertson’s Christian Coalition.

The movie is so bad it depresses me. On the upside, it does make me think more about Steve Carell and the “The 40 Year-Old Virgin,” a picture it can’t help but resemble. Now there was a good comedy! That one had smarts, complex characters, good acting and a delightful narrative. It was also funny, so much so my eyes were watering, not something viewers watching this will even remotely have to worry about. Other than Williams and Dinklage, “The Baxter” is never funny, not even remotely. It’s a terrible comedy and a worse movie, and I’m hoping, like its namesake, people leave this at the alter and look elsewhere for their entertainment. I know I wish I could have.

Film Rating: ê  (out of 4)